Be With You
by pickalily
Summary: No matter how the world tries to tear them apart, they'll always find they're way back to each other. A collection of Springles drabbles.
1. Barter

**A/N:** _I love Springles so much, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of fics about them. Here is some with a lot more coming after SnK 105..._

 **Note:** _SnK 105 spoilers._

* * *

The trainee wages aren't much, but Sasha always manages to come home with half the market every time they visit the village on their days off. Most people only come home with a basket of goods (and that's usually given to them by their own families). Sasha, however, claims she buys these things all on her own. Her secret? Bartering.

"I once haggled a butcher for a chicken leg with just a loose button off my shirt," Sasha brags, her chest puffed out with pride. "You need to know how to bargain with them. It's actually pretty complicated. You've got to pay attention to their mood, what's selling well, and the price the goods are selling at in other shops. And then you have to think about yourself too. Don't dress too nicely like you have a lot of money, and don't act too interested either."

Connie wrinkles his nose. He used to think shopping was simple, but Sasha's tips are making his head hurt. "Can't I just pay what's on the sign?" he asks.

"Of course not," Sasha snorts. "You're not rich enough for that and you can buy so much more food if you work a little for it. You should try it, Connie. It's a useful life skill!"

He doesn't mind paying full price for his food. After all, the farmers and shopkeepers work hard too and need to earn money just like everybody else does. He also doesn't feel the need to have a feast at every meal like Sasha does, but she seems to enjoy bargaining with the shopkeepers and stall workers, so he figures he should give it a try. When she enjoys something, there's a good chance he'll find it fun too.

"Any place you think I should start in particular?" he asks.

Sasha gives him a wide grin and links her arm through his, already tugging him excitedly to a food stall. "There's a lady who runs a fruit stand over there," Sasha says, pointing. "She's pretty nice and you can usually get a few more oranges and apples out of her if you look poor enough."

Connie feels the few coins that are left in his pocket. He had spent them earlier on snacks. Had he known this is what he'd be doing lately, he would have saved them instead of eating all those donuts.

"I'm sure I'm poor enough," he mutters. He turns to look at Sasha. "What if I have nothing to bargain with?"

She smirks. "Then don't go after something you know you can't afford," Sasha laughs. Digging around in the pocket of her skirt, she pulls out a handful of coins and drops them in his hand. Despite having already bought quite a few goods already, she still had enough of her wages to spare. "Here, this'll help you out."

"Thanks," Connie mumbles, pocketing the money. He fusses with his clothes, hoping to rumple them up a bit to make him look even worse off than he already was. "Wish me luck."

In the end he was able to buy a basket of oranges, a leg of beef, a head of lettuce, and still had coins left over for Sasha to buy ingredients for the rest of the feast they were planning on having once they returned to the training ground.

She's surprised to see Connie in the stalls, just lazing around in one the haystacks and not minding that the horses are beginning to nibble at his clothing instead of the hay.

"Hey, Sasha," Connie says, grunting as he sits up. He pats the head of one of the horses that is biting the bottom of his shirt. "Is it your turn to feed the horses?"

"Yeah…," Sasha says, frowning. She looks at the bucket of feed dangling from her hand and then at the disinterested horses that are ignoring her. Maybe she should have waited a bit longer before coming in. But then… "Shouldn't you be doing your own chores?"

Connie grins. "I convinced Jean to do my chores today. I told him he could have my dinner," he says. He looks oddly smug despite the fact that he won't be eating tonight. "I used those bartering skills you taught me the other day!"

"Yeah, but I don't think you made that great of a deal if you're losing your dinner," Sasha says. She sighs and puts the bucket of feed down, walking over to take a seat next to Connie on the haystack. She pats him on the back. "It's okay. We'll work on improving your skills next time."

"Nah. Tonight's dinner is meatloaf," Connie reminds her.

"Oh. _Oh._ "

The meatloaf that they serve the trainees is terrible. It tastes nothing like meat and Sasha suspects that they use some sort of substitute, which is ridiculous because nothing can ever replace the savory taste of meat. And they don't cook it – they burn it until the texture is as tough as a boot. You can't cut it up no matter how hard you try, so don't even think about trying to eat it.

Sasha grins at Connie and pinches his cheek affectionately. "I take it back then. You're doing well, my young scholar."

They like to share their few moments of peace with each other. Sometimes they go hunting because Sasha finds it therapeutic. Her enemies back then were so much simpler: pheasant, deer, wild boar. And this is only a temporary escape, but they'll take it together because that's all they have.

He enjoys laying in the grassy pastures with her after a hunt. Most of the time they don't return with any game. It's because of the Titans, Sasha explained once. Even though they've been removed, it will take a long time for the ecosystem to reset itself. But they'll all return eventually. It will just take time.

Sasha's surprisingly patient. She says it's just enough to ride through the forest again, to just think about something besides the unknown future that awaited them on the other side of the ocean, to be here with him in a place where they can rest even if it's only for a little while.

They talk about the things that are happening now and the things that have happened in the past, but they never talk about the future. How can they when it's so uncertain? They distract themselves with things that have happened – all the good times, all the bad times, everything in between - because it's somehow proof that they can make it until the end.

"Best deal you ever made," Sasha says. She's flat on her back, basking in the sunlight with her eyes closed. "I'm sure you've come a long way since what I first taught you. You can probably buy a whole dinner on just a gold coin if you're careful enough. And that's not even using your connections to Queen Historia."

He laughs. "I'm sure whatever bargaining story I tell will pale in comparison to yours," Connie says. He picks at the grass, collecting the blades in the palm of his hand. "You are the expert after all."

Sasha grins widely. "It's true. You know a while ago I went from this tiny little pebble I found in the square and just began trading and trading it until I came home with two horses," she says, recalling the memory fondly.

He does remember that time. She came home with two horses that she didn't need and everyone had wondered how she had enough money to buy the animals in the first place. While the government had increased funds for the Scouting Legion, there wasn't enough in the budget for more horses. She had jokingly said that she could probably get the Scouting Legion twice as many horses as they needed. They'd just need to get her a lot more rocks first.

"I'd never be able to top that," Connie chuckles. He twists the blades of grass together until they form a small ring that's big enough to fit a finger through it. He holds it out to Sasha, holding it delicately between his fingers. "I bet I could come close though. Spend the rest life with me in exchange for this ring?"

She smirks at the little grass ring, taking it carefully from him. "You think my life is only worth a grass ring?" she asks, but she slips it onto her finger anyway.

He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss on the finger where her hand is. The grass band is missing, but it had gone brown only a few days he had given it to her. She typically wears it though, forcing him to make him a new one every time the one she's wearing begins to fade in color.

"You're not wearing your ring," he says, rubbing a thumb where the band should be.

"I was afraid I'd lose it," Sasha replies, smiling when he raises her hand to his lips again. "Although maybe if you got me a real ring I'd wear it more often."

"You didn't like the ring I made you? I worked hard on that!"

"You make those things in like two minutes," Sasha scoffs, but she looks affectionately at the place where her ring should be. "When you get me a real ring, get one of those really big fancy ones that Historia is always getting from those snobby nobles. The ones with the diamonds all around the band!"

"The ones that she's always selling off behind their backs to get more money for the orphanages?" Connie snickers. Ah, but he really should get her a ring, a real ring, a proper ring. He sits beside her, holding out her hand and imagining the ring that he'll place on her finger someday soon. "I don't think a diamond band is in my budget, but how about one diamond? A big one with so many facets…"

"Hmm. A medium-sized diamond with two smaller ones on the side," Sasha says. "That'd be pretty, don't you think?"

He'd get her the moon to put on her finger if he could. Diamonds, pearls, sapphires. Any one of those jewels would look perfect on her finger. "Well, if you want three, then they might be a little smaller than you're thinking but…"

"And a gold band," Sasha says, snuggling up even closer to him. She slips her hand easily into his, their fingers interlocked.

"A gold band, huh. I guess I could make it happen," he says, but then he realizes what she's doing. "Are you…you're haggling me over your engagement ring, aren't you?"

"Maybe…" Sasha says in a sing-song voice. She laughs when she sees him frowning and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm just kidding, but I'd be delighted if you actually got it for me."

He takes a glance out the window, seeing the foreign land. The land beyond the ocean. They shouldn't be talking about something like this when they'll soon be attacking their enemy with no certainty of coming out alive.

"Let's think about it when we get back," Connie tells her, squeezing her hand.

They celebrate too early. It's only when he hears the gunshot, sees her lying on the floor with the light fading from her eyes, that he remembers that it's never really over until they've returned home. Only this time she wouldn't be coming back with them.

While the others capture the young girl and boy responsible for their fallen comrade, he rushes to her side, hoping to somehow revive her.

He reaches for her face, touching her cheek so tenderly, but her eyes are closing. "Oi, Sasha!" he cries, his voice breaking. How could this happen when they were so close? "Wake up! We're going home, so please wake up!"

She mumbles something, whispering that they should be quiet so she can sleep, but it only makes them screaming them louder. Their cries are desperate, hoping that if they're loud enough they'll be able to call her back, but she doesn't respond. She simply fades from them, slipping away from them and leaving them alone without her.

"Hey, Sasha, if you don't wake up, you won't be able to enjoy the supper you were looking forward to when we get home," he says, voice trembling. His tears overflow, falling from his cheeks and onto her uniform. Gently he cradles her in his arms, whispering words to her that he knows she can't hear. "We could hunt boar like we did when we were trainees and cook it the way you cooked it for Pixis. I'll even let you have a leg. Two legs. That's your favorite part, isn't it? And we haven't decided on the ring yet…You said three…but I can find one with diamonds all around the band if that's what you really want…if you wake up, Sasha…you have to wake up…"

He pleads with her lifeless body, prays to the uncaring gods, and begs the cruel world for her life back, but he knows it's useless. He can propose any deal he wants, but he knows he has nothing to bargain with.

* * *

 **Word Count:** _2199_


	2. Heels

**A/N:** _A modern AU for Springles that I wrote a while ago because I thought it would be cute._

* * *

She has a rack of high heels that she never wears. Some are open-toed, others are strappy, and a few sparkling with jewels on them. He notices that there isn't even a speck of dust on them and he wonders why she takes care of them if she never plans on wearing them on her feet. He reaches for a pair; they're bright red with an open-toe and a single strap to secure around an ankle.

"These are really nice," he says to her, turning it around in his hands. The way they shine, it's as if they're new. He looks over at where his girlfriend is, on her laptop browsing Yelp to decide where to go on their date. "How come you never wear these?" Now that he thinks of it, he's never seen Sasha wear anything but sneakers and flats, shoes with little to no heel in them.

"Huh?" She swivels around in her chair and sees him holding the shoes. She looks embarrassed, as if she never expected him to see them even though they sit in plain sight in her room. "It was just a phase I had before. I bought a bunch without thinking because I thought they were pretty and then I realized that they didn't suit me."

He feels like he should drop the subject because she's fidgeting in her seat and avoiding his gaze, but he doesn't really believe what she says about the shoes not suiting her. "I think they'd look amazing on you," he says, holding it out to her. "Like Cinderella and her glass slippers. A perfect fit. Made for you, in fact, all these heels and pumps and whatever."

She's turned around again, her back turned to him so she doesn't have to look at his face. He can tell she's just ignoring him because of the way she scrolls through the restaurant reviews, not even bothering to pause to inspect the attached pictures or thoroughly read through the experiences of others who dined at the eateries. "Don't be stupid," she mumbles. "I was never meant to wear heels anyway. It's not that big of a deal."

He frowns. He could pursue the argument further, point out that she clearly loves these shoes a lot because she's taken care to clean them periodically so that dust didn't collect on them, but instead he yanks off his shoes and socks. "Fine," he mutters, shoving his foot into one of the heels. He clumsily straps it around his ankle to make it fit better, but the shoe is hopelessly large on him. "I guess I'll wear them instead."

"What?" She whirls around to see him with both heels on now and struggling to get up. "Connie!"

He pushes himself off the floor and wobbles over to her, his steps miniscule so he wouldn't topple over. "Look at how great these look on me!" he says, teetering as he made his way to his girlfriend. "No wonder you don't wear them. You probably take them off every time you put them on because you're ashamed about how much better I'd look in them!" He attempts to strike a pose but finds himself falling over just as he gets the hang of it.

"Connie!" She rushes to catch him, and he falls into her. "God, you're so heavy."

They collapse on the ground and Connie smiles when he sees that Sasha's doubled over in laughter. "Hey, why are you laughing so hard?" he asks, nudging her with his high-heeled foot. "You're hurting my feelings!"

"You look so ridiculous!" she wheezes, gasping for air. "Take them off before I die laughing!"

"As you wish!" He unbuckles them and slides them off. She's still laughing though so he takes the chance to grab her by the ankle.

"Connie!" she yelps. She almost kicks him in the face, but he dodges just in time. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to see what they look like on you," he says. He stops to pause and looks at her face. "Is that okay?"

She purses her lips before she answers. "Yes," she whispers. "You're not going to laugh, are you?"

"Of course not," he replies, and he slips the shoe on. As he predicted, it's a perfect fit and it looks even better than he expected. He slips on the second shoe and buckles it around her ankle, admiring how nice the bright red looks on the tan of her skin. "Beautiful."

"You think so?" she asks. She looks at her foot, in awe of the beautiful shoes. He wonders if she looks so amazed because she didn't realize how pretty the shoes were or if she didn't know how pretty they'd look on her. He hopes it's the latter. "A guy told me before that I was too tall to wear them. I don't know why I believed him."

"Yeah, well, screw him because you look amazing!" Connie says, standing up and holding out a hand to pull her up. "In heels or whatever footwear of choice."

She giggles as he helps her up. "Thanks," she says. "You're really sweet, Connie."

"Yeah, and I know how much of a sweet tooth you have!" He jumps to avoid her fingers that are stretching out to pinch him. He grabs his keys from her desk and pockets them. "You picked out a place, right? I'm starving!"

"There's a new Greek place that opened up near our university," she says. "Let me get changed first and we can go."

"Sounds awesome! I'll get the car ready then. Meet you in a bit."

She walks out of the house wearing those heels, a dark blue dress, and the prettiest smile he's ever seen. "Let's go," she says.

* * *

 **A/N:** _They're so perfect for each other..._

 **Word Count:** _959_


	3. Never Leave

**A/N:** _Springles is such a lovely ship. One of my favorites although I never got requests for them before 105, so in a_ way, _it's nice even though the chapter broke my heart._

 _My eye keeps twitching a lot lately. I think it's because I'm not sleeping enough although I always wake up at the same time no matter how late I go to bed._

* * *

When he returns after the events at the Castle Utgard, after escaping the battle between the Colossal Titan, the Armored Titan, and Eren's own Titan, he can't sleep. It's not that he's worried about himself and the monsters he has to face once again in the future – at least no more than he's usually worried. He's signed up for this. He knows what sort of danger he's signed himself up for. But after seeing his comrades fall in the Battle for Trost, after watching the veteran members of the Survey Corps get slaughtered mercilessly by the Titans while he watched helplessly at the top of Utgard's tower, after returning home to seeing his abandoned village, thinking about the unfortunate fate that seems to be inevitable for his loved ones scares him. Hell, he doesn't even know where Reiner and Bertholdt are and they were just behind him on that wall, weren't they? Mikasa and Eren are strong, but he's not sure if their strength is enough for the battles before them. And if people in the top ten like Marco can fall without anyone else noticing, his half-eaten carcass the only thing left behind, what is going to happen to the rest of them?

"Connie?" a voice says suddenly, pulling him from delving any deeper into his darkest fears. It's familiar, warm, comforting. He turns and it's Sasha, her hair messy from running around and delivering reports from her own village, but she's safe and she's here and somehow that feels him with overwhelming relief.

Usually, he has so much to say to her, but now he has no words. He rushes over to her instead, holding her tightly because if he doesn't he's afraid that she'll disappear just like his family had, just like the villagers he had grown up knowing, and just like he's afraid everyone else will.

"Hey," she laughs, but she puts her arms around him. "What's wrong?"

"I thought you were gone," he says, his voice cracking. His throat is tight with the sobs he tries to hold back. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

"Silly," she says. Her voice is soft, gentle. Her arms wrap around him more tightly. "I'll always come back to you. We're a pair, aren't we?"

He thinks then that he'll never let her go. He's lost his family and lost so many friends, he can't lose her too.

* * *

After they return to Shiganshina, he doesn't leave her side. He just waits by her side and watches as her chest moves up and down, her breathing proof that she's still alive. Sometimes he sees her finger twitch, her eyelids flutter, her mouth moves as she mumbles something incoherent, but she doesn't wake. With every passing day, he begins to lose hope and just when he's given up completely, she stirs in her sleep, mumbling about how her body aches.

He doesn't even wait for her to wake up completely, just throws his arms around her even though it will probably hurt her more. It doesn't matter though. If she's in pain, that means she's alive and that's the only thing that's important to him.

"Hey," Sasha laughs weakly. "At least wait until I've eaten something first, won't you? I'm starving!" But she wraps her arms around him anyway.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. He wipes away tears that he hadn't even realized were falling down his cheeks.

"Don't cry," she tells him, wiping a tear he had missed with her thumb. She cups his cheeks in her hands, pulling him close so that their foreheads touch. "I told you I'd come back for you, didn't I? And I'm here now."

And that's all he needs.

* * *

He runs to her as soon as he hears the gunshot, holds her in his arms as she bleeds out onto the floor. He wraps her arms tightly around her as the others rush to stop the blood, but this time her arms remain limp at her sides.

He's known the world isn't fair, that it's never been, and that the fact that she's come this far is some sort of miracle in its own way. Still, he doesn't want her to leave. It's too soon. The world has taken too much from him – his family, his friends, his home – and now it wants to take her too.

So he prays to the heavens to spare him. He pleads with the uncaring gods, the ones who have ignored his prayers before, to leave her alone. They can take everything from him, even take his own life, but let her live. If he can just have one thing, please let it be her.

A gentle hand brushes his cheek, wiping away the tears from his face. When he opens his eyes, Sasha is looking at him with a weak smile.

"Are you crying again, silly?" she asks, her voice just a whisper. "You're only allowed to cry for me when I'm gone, and I'm not leaving you yet."

He pulls her close, burying his face in her neck as he cries tears of relief. He hopes she never leaves. She's the only one he has left.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I get such a kick reading all of the reactions/responses to my fics, so please leave a review if you have the time! The tags on Tumblr make me laugh a lot. I think I'll write another Springles soon since there is one more sitting in my inbox ^^ I hope you look forward to it!_

 _Sometimes I forget to put the line breaks D: I'm sorry if this happens and you read it before I remember to edit them back in!_

 **Word Count:** _861_


	4. Here Now

**A/N:** _Someone wanted Springles fluff, so I made it super fluffy ^^_

* * *

The child clings tightly to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, and he pries one of her hands off from her shirt and brings it to his lips to give it a gentle kiss. What a tiny and sweet hand it is, and soon another pair will be here for him to kiss as well. His daughter laughs when his lips meet her skin, saying that it tickles, so he plants a kiss on her cheek instead and she giggles even harder.

"Say hello to your mother," he coos, lifting her up and onto the couch where her mother is sleeping.

The girl looks to her slumbering mother, their faces close. With a chubby finger, she pokes her mother's cheek. "Mom," the girl says. When her mother doesn't respond, she pokes her again, harder this time. "Mooom."

Connie pats his daughter's head affectionately but takes her finger away from his mother's face. "A little quieter maybe, Evie. Mommy's tired." He kneels down next to the couch, brushing the bangs from his wife's face. "Sash, you want to wake up yet? You've been sleeping for a while."

Sasha stirs but ends up pulling the blanket up over her head. "I thought you said you were coming home at five," she groans, turning away from them. It only makes their daughter all the more eager to get her up though and Evie begins to crawl on top of her mother. "Oh, Evie! Not now, Mommy's tired."

Connie lifts Evie off her mother and sits her down on his lap where she struggles to get out from his grip until he begins to tickle her. She's a puddle of giggles after that, squealing at him to stop. "We did come home at five. Then I made dinner and waited for you to wake up, but you never did. It's six-thirty now."

"Is it?" Sasha asks, a sheepish smile on her face. She finally sits up, letting out a yawn. A brief glance at the setting sun outside the window confirms that it is indeed much later than five o'clock. "Oh, I slept for so much longer than I wanted to. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked so peaceful sleeping there that I didn't want to wake you," Connie replies.

His daughter wiggles out from his grasp and climbs onto her mother's lap. "We went to Uncle Jean's house," Evie tells her mother. She looks at her mother's protruding stomach suspiciously. "I asked him where babies come from and he told me you have to eat a person and then a new one pops out. Did you really eat a person, Mommy?"

Sasha looks at Connie who only grins at her but offers no help in giving an answer. She sighs and ruffles her daughter's short brown hair. "No, baby," Sasha says, kissing Evie on top of her head. "Mommy ate a watermelon. If you eat an entire watermelon by yourself, then a baby grows inside of you."

Her daughter's eyes are as wide as saucers. "Really?" she asks. She looks so confused as she tries to wrap her head around how a watermelon can transform into a human baby, but it looks as she believes it anyway because she announces, "I'm going to eat a watermelon!"

"Or," Connie suggests, grabbing onto the eager child before she runs off to swallow an entire watermelon whole, "how about you visit Uncle Levi next door and ask him for some candy?"

The girl looks so serious as she decides between a watermelon and candy from the grumpy man next door, but the sugar sweets call to her more. "I want candy from Uncle Levi," she tells her parents.

"Good girl," Connie says, patting Evie on the head. "Only take one and come straight back, okay?"

"I will!" Evie says, already running off to their neighbor's house.

"And tell him that your parents say hi!" Sasha says.

"Okay," Evie replies, the door falling shut behind her as she runs out of the house.

"Do you think Captain Levi is going to hate us for sending our daughter to him so often?" Connie wonders.

"Nah."

Captain Levi was now retired as were most of the veteran members of the Scouting Legion. He lived next door to them and although he complained of them often, they're sure he'd be lonely without them. He also enjoys the company of Evie even though he'll deny it if someone asks him his opinion of the young girl. After all, why else would he keep a jar of candy in his house when he doesn't care for them? He'll claim it's because Hanji gives them to him and he doesn't want to hurt their feelings and just throw the sweets out, but everyone else knows better.

Connie settles next to his wife, kissing her sloppily on the cheek. "Nice job dodging the bullet there," he says.

"If only I could have dodged every bullet," she jokes.

He frowns, his hand going to her side where her long-healed bullet wound is. He smooths his thumb over the fabric of her dress where her scar is hidden. "You know I hate it when you make jokes like that."

"Hey, it's funny, isn't it?" she laughs, elbowing him in the ribs. She stops when she notices that he's not laughing and smiles. Her gentle hand smooths the wrinkles that have appeared on his forehead, and she presses a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry. I won't say things like that anymore. I know how much you hate it, but you don't have to think about that anymore…we're together and we have a beautiful family…and we're here now. It's safe here."

She's right. They're here now and all of that was in the past. Their beautiful girl is probably running back now, shoving a handful of candy into her pockets because Uncle Levi had given her more than her parents would ever approve of. And there's another gift that will soon join them in a few months. He's grateful.

"You're right," Connie murmurs. He leans down to kiss her stomach where their second child is growing, slumbering, and the scar just a faded memory of something they no longer need to think about.

* * *

 **A/N:** _This is the happiness they deserve._

 **Word Count:** _1040_


	5. Together Now

**A/N:** _Possibly my most favorite "ship in heaven" one-shot that I've written so far._

* * *

Heaven isn't anything like he imagined it would be. Connie always thought it would be filled with his dead comrades clad in white silken robes, brilliant wings blooming from their shoulder blades and halos floating above their heads. Their houses would be made of clouds and the days filled with sunshine. There wouldn't be a wall in sight. But it's nothing like that.

Beneath his feet, the grass tickles his bare feet and the sun shines brilliantly overhead. The coolest breeze caresses his face and the fields of grass roll as the wind blows past. Sprinkled across the field are flowers that he remembers from his past life – delicate daisies in yellow and white, light blue flowers but the name escapes him, and light pink carnations with their ruffled petals.

Further out, the field stretches out to the great unknown. In front of him, the grass disappears, transforming into a sandy seaside. If Connie looks hard enough, he can see the waves of the ocean pulling in and out of the shore. It's more peaceful than the one he had known. That one had seemed so violent as it crashed into the sand, threatening to pull victims into unknown dangers. The sea that stretches before him now seems to be warm and inviting, calling to him gently, and the sea breeze blows up to him, kissing his cheek tenderly.

If he turns to his right, the grassy fields grow from a flat plain to rolling hills to gargantuan mountains, towering down. The hills are filled with even more flowers, ones that he's never seen before – vibrant reds and oranges, soft purples and blues, and deep yellows and pinks – and he thinks that he has all the time in the world now to learn about all these flowers and their names. When he looks up at the mountains, he sees that they're so far off in the distance. How big would they be if he were to come up close? It doesn't seem to be real to him. It's like someone had painted these purple peaks just at the edge of the horizon and sprinkled snow at the very tips of it. He had been in snowy mountains, seen their thrilling beauty, and yet this sight takes his breath away like those mountains never had.

To his left are hundreds and hundreds of trees. They're nothing like the forests that he knew before. These trees have gentle branches that bend and creak with the gentle breeze. Animals scurry through the woodland, climbing up the tree and darting through bushes. They look so gentle compared to the ones he had known; the ones from his previous life only knew violence and cruelty and had to adapt into violent and cruel creatures themselves to live. These creatures, however, only know peace and tranquility and some would come to him, sniffing at his feet curiously, before scampering away. They're such small animals, ones that he wasn't sure existed back in his old life because he didn't pay attention to animals unless they were big game. If they were to exist in the same world he did, would they be so different? If he had been able to live in a serene world such as this, how would he be different?

And behind him…when he turns around, there are his parents, the first people to greet him in heaven.

They look just like they did the day he left Ragako.

His mother has the same creases around her eyes and mouth, worry lines that appeared whenever he was about to do something reckless. It's the same expression she wore the day he left for the military and it's the same expression she wears now, worried that her son has forgotten her after all this time. Her hair is tied in a low bun, wisps of gray mixed with brown. He wonders if she always looked that old and tired before he left.

His father hides his emotions more easily, but Connie still remembers him enough to decipher them easily. His mouth is set in a straight line, worried, sharing the same thoughts as Connie's mother. His father looks at him with cautious eyes, holding himself back lest his son doesn't remember the family he left behind, and it almost breaks Connie's heart.

The sight of them overwhelms him, brings him to his knees, and he finds himself crying in the middle of the fields.

His parents rush to him, calling his name. It makes him sob harder because it's the first time in a long time that he's heard them say his name.

"I'm so sorry," he tells them. He doesn't bother wiping away his tears because he knows they'll continue to overflow. He looks up at them, their faces filled with concern, and he says, "I always meant to come back. I told you, didn't I? I was going to come back. I just came back too late."

His parents wrap their arms around him, his mother shushing him and his father rubbing Connie's back gently the way he did when Connie was still a child.

"You did the best you could," his mother says. When he looks at her, he sees that her eyes have filled with tears too. "We're proud of you, Connie. We're so proud of you."

"You became everything we thought you would be and so much more," his father says. It's rare for his father to cry, but even his voice has thickened, filled with emotion. "Connie, you don't know how proud you've made us."

He wants to apologize for so many things – for leaving, for not being there, for returning too late – but he knows he doesn't have to because they already forgive him. He can feel it when they embrace him, how they hug him so tightly like they're never going to let go. He clings to them just as tightly, wishing that he had hugged them before he had left them in the life he had left so long ago.

"Oh, Connie," his mother whispers. Her voice trembles as she takes another good look at her son, her hand on his face. "Oh, Connie. Don't you know? Someone else is waiting for you too."

"Don't keep her waiting," his father tells him.

He leaves them, reluctant to part, but he knows they'll see each other again.

They don't say a name, but he knows who they're talking about. How can he not? He knows where she is too, and he starts towards the ocean. In his last life and this one, it always seems like he's headed there. It makes sense. After all, it's the place where all things begin and end.

He doesn't run across the grassy fields. That would take too long, and he's already taken long enough getting to her. He flies across the rolling green hills, across the sands, and into her arms. The weight of him nearly causes her to collapse, but she laughs because they're finally together again.

"Connie, you know we can't do this," she laughs, trying hard not to fall. He doesn't care if she holds him up or not. She can let him fall and he'll be fine just as long as she doesn't let go of him. "You're too heavy, you know."

So he holds her instead, lifts her off her feet and spins her around as she cries out in surprise. Setting her down, he pulls himself away from her to see her face. Tracing the curve of her cheek with his thumb, Connie wonders how he was able to live so long without seeing her face. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "I missed you so much, Sash," he whispers. "You don't know how much."

"I have a vague idea," she says. Her voice is just as soft as his and she pulls him down, laughing so hard that she's crying now.

They could apologize for everything – her for having to leave and him for having to stay – but it wouldn't matter. They have forever now and to apologize for things they already forgive each other for is just a waste of time. Time might be abundant now, but it's still precious to Connie, so he presses his lips to her nose, her cheeks, her lips. His tears mix with her, salty on his tongue, and he murmurs to her that it's alright now, that they'll be okay because they're together now and they never have to leave each other again.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I still miss Sasha a lot D:_

 **Word Count:** _1418_


	6. The Dance of the Sexy Pork Cutlet Bowl

**A/N:** _One of my friends on Tumblr drew this beautiful YOI AU with Sasha as a skater and Connie as her coach. I ended up writing this for it ^^_

* * *

"So," he says, a wide grin on his face. It's too wide, too bright, too expectant. "What do you have for me?"

Nothing. She has absolutely nothing for him, but it's not like she can say this to her idol. Her idol, Connie Springer, the most talked about figure skater in the world, who is standing right in front of her and asking her to perform a short program for her. He should be in Russia practicing his quad lutzs and quad loops, not standing here and waiting for him to slip and fall on the ice right in front of him. So why is he here?

She should be over the moon that she finally gets to meet her idol after so many years of watching him on screen and behind the scenes during skating competitions because she didn't have the courage to talk to him. She should be marveling at how unexpectedly tall he is – much taller than he looked on television – and how gray his hair is for someone as young as himself. She should be wondering if it's naturally gray or if he's dyed it that color. She should be gushing about how much she loves his work, his dedication, his talent, not standing in front of him and stammering because she can hardly string two words together in front of him.

There's a giggle in the corner of the ice rink and Sasha turns to glare at the little kids hanging out, watching the world-famous ice skater hanging out in the very same place that they practice. As expected, there is a phone amongst them and they elbow each other, fighting over who should hold it as they record Connie Springer and rack up more likes on their YouTube page. How did seven-year-olds have YouTube pages now? Didn't they have age limits to those things?

Sasha sighs.

That's what started it all. A video recorded by those little troublemakers while she was just fooling around in the rink after returning home from a competition where she failed to place yet again. It was just practice. She had just put on Stravinsky's _Firebird Suite_. It's "Infernal Dance Of All Of Kaschei's Subjects," the same movement that Connie Springer had skated to when he won his first Grand Prix medal. Some people believe that his last Olympic performance was his best, but his performance at the Grand Prix back when he was still new is still one of Sasha's favorites.

She was just standing in the middle of the rink, her eyes closed as she soaked in the magnificent horns and drums of the Stravinsky. The plan was just to practice her toe flips, her spins, her jumps, but she was caught up in the music, reimagining that performance she had watched on the television years ago. It was what had really sold her into the world of ice skating. Before she was just fooling around. After watching Connie Springer, she wanted to really skate, to dance on the ice like he did.

Before she knew it, she was envisioning what it was like to be like him, to move so elegantly across the ice. She began to glide across the ice, mimicking the graceful movements of his arms that she had seen so long ago. She had watched the video clip so many times after that that she had practically memorized the choreography. Sasha knows every spin he did as the music swelled, knows when he punctuates each phrase with the perfect jump, and remembers all the intricate footwork to his step sequences. And she does it all one by one, probably not as perfectly as him – she can't do the same jumps he can and she's not nearly as graceful as he is - but it feels thrilling to skate the steps he did because it gives her a feeling of what it feels like to be him.

 _So this is what it must feel like to be magnificent_ , she thinks when the piece finally comes to an end, breathing heavily.

Unfortunately, other people didn't think it wasn't close to magnificent. Reiner, her friend whose parents owned the rink, had his little and their friends come over often for skating lessons. Sasha had always known the kids were addicted to technology and the various social media apps that have become popular over the years, but she never thought they would feel the need to capture her on camera and post a video of her dancing to _Firebird Suite_ on YouTube. She didn't even know about it until her dad barged in her room, telling her that her skating abilities had improved so much since she was a little kid.

She was mortified, but Reiner only laughed when she came running to him. It was giving her recognition, and isn't that what she wanted? It was, but not like this. She didn't want people comparing her to Connie Springer or accusing her of wanting to be like him when she could never be on his level. She didn't want people giving her pity praise, telling her that her technique is good and that in time she would become even better than she already was. And she most certainly did not want Connie Springer to fly all the way over from Russia and ask her to skate for him after watching the video.

He doesn't seem angry at her, which is what she's most grateful for, but she can't say that she's exactly happy he's here either. There are some idols that get incredibly angry if they see a fan mimic them, screaming about how originality is dead and that the younger generation will never live up to the old stars. Connie doesn't seem like that at all though. He looks like he genuinely wants to watch her skate for him up close and personal. It's just that it's too up close and personal for her.

"Well, you see," Sasha mumbles. She twirls a lock of her hair nervously around her finger. "I don't really…have anything. I was planning on taking a break from this season of skating, you know. I don't have anything choreographed and my programs from last season…they weren't any good."

He looks so surprised when she says that. "Really? But I thought they were impressive," he says. His eyebrows are knitted in confusion. "But what about that last one you did? The one in the video, I mean. It was magnificent. Do you think you could skate that one just a little bit? It seems like you know it quite well."

Sasha's sure that he's mocking her now. He says it as if she's the one who originated the program, the one who had skated it first, but he must know that he was the one to do that. It was his first gold Grand Prix performance, how can he not?

She's about to open her mouth to refuse him when she hears another giggle where the children are. Unable to deal with both the children and her figure skating hero, she shoots a glare at Gabi and her friends and growls, "Scram!"

The children all scream and scamper away, Falco nearly dropping the phone. The door slams shut behind them, but even then, Sasha only feels a little calmer.

"Sorry," Sasha mumbles. She looks down at her skates, wondering why she had even bothered to put them on. "They just…like to hang around here and watch me skate a lot."

"No worries," Connie says cheerfully. "I like kids. If they're making you too nervous, though, maybe we could talk to them later."

She doesn't want there to be a later. She wants this to be over now, but it seems like he won't leave until he's seen her skate once.

Fumbling with her phone, she finds _Firebird Suite_ and hands it her idol. When he sees the piece she's chosen, he gives her an excited grin.

Right from the start, she knows it's a failure. She can hardly hear the music over the thumping of her heartbeat. She's off by a beat, two beats, an entire bar of music. Her movements are unsure, clumsy rather than graceful. Instead of gliding over the ice, her skates scrap across them. She's not dancing the way she should be; her spins are all over the place, her jumps sloppy, and her step sequences are nervous stomps across the ice. She should have never put on her skates. She should have never put on this song. She should have never thought she could skate the way he could – even for a little bit – because it's clear now that that will never happen.

She doesn't even notice that she's tripped over herself until she hits the ice. It's a hard and fast fall, one she doesn't feel until she stumbles up. She rubs at her cheek, numb from the ice and sure to turn purple the very next day. It doesn't really hurt though. It just feels cold.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks quietly. When she looks up, Connie is there with a hand outstretched and a worried look on his face.

"Yeah, I just," Sasha mumbles, swallowing hard. Damn, she really wishes he weren't here. She feels how tender her cheek is again, wincing at the pain after touching it so lightly. She hadn't fallen like that since she was a kid. "I guess it's not really my day."

Connie shrugs, helping her up. "Bad days are more common than you think. I've had my own fair share of those."

"Sure," she says bitterly. "I'm sure you have."

"It's true," he says, eyebrows raised. "Some days are so bad that I just feel like quitting, you know. But I never have."

"Why not?"

He blinks. "Why not what?"

"Well, why haven't you quit?" she asks him.

"Oh! Huh. I guess because I have things I like. Things that inspire me to skate more," Connie says, shrugging. He tilts his head, thinking of examples. "My parents, you know. The people in the village I was brought up in. They've never had someone like me representing them before, so I guess I'm kind of a big deal. And the kids I meet, the ones that say they want to skate just like me."

For a guy that's won numerous world championships, he's pretty humble. It makes Sasha like him even more, but it also makes her even more upset that he's seen her slip and fall. Years of skating practice and she can't even prove that she's capable of skating better than a child. He must be so disappointed that he's come all this way here only to be let down.

"What about you?" he asks.

"What about me what?"

"What did you think about when you were skating in that video?" he asks.

"Absolutely nothing," she lies immediately. She was thinking of him, how graceful and magnificent he was, but she can't admit that to his face. That's too embarrassing and she's already so flustered already. "My body just moved on its own. You know how it is sometimes."

"Is that so? I guess that happens sometimes," he says, laughing. She's not sure that he believes her entirely, but he doesn't press on. "Well, next time you skate, maybe think of something that inspires you or motivates you. Don't think about people watching. I find that only makes you nervous."

"Right," Sasha says quietly. She reaches for her phone which Connie holds out to her in an outstretched hand, but she hesitates. _Firebird Suite_ is still on her phone and she could easily just switch her phone off, pocket it, and be on her merry way. Then he could go back to Russia and forget all about her, but it seems like such a shame. He came all the way to see her and all she gave him was an embarrassingly terribly performance. He didn't even laugh at her once, only smiled and given her this advice, and she's not sure she's ready to let him leave like this. This isn't the way she wants him to remember her if he remembers her at all.

So she presses "play," skating to the center of the rink once more as she listens to the sound of horns blare from her phone. She chances another glance at Connie to gauge his expression – confused, elated, surprised. Good. She'll surprise him even more by the end of this piece.

 _Think of something that inspires you._

Katsudon. Her mind immediately goes to katsudon, her go-to comfort food once she comes home from a competition. She likes to sit in the Japanese restaurant at the corner of the street, soak in the quiet and comforting atmosphere as she sits and waits for her pork cutlet rice bowl. She doesn't even have to ask for it. She just sits and the chef immediately begins making it in the kitchen, the dish appearing before her.

As the music begins again, she lifts her arms as if to mimic the warm and inviting atmosphere that her favorite dish brings, and she begins. Although it's the same choreography that she had done in the video, the same movements that Connie had used in his stunning Grand Prix performance, it's not the same either. Those movements were far more fluid, graceful. Now, she moves with more strength and power. It is not the grace of the firebird that she dances with, but its energy and vigor because it is the same with katsudon.

She twirls as she thinks about the captivating aroma of the delicious dish, how it envelops her right as the pork cutlet begins to fry in the pan. She jumps as she imagines the seductive pork cutlets, juicy and full of flavor from the fried crust. She thinks of the absolute satisfaction of finishing the entire dish – the fresh scallions used for garnish, the mouth-watery eggs cooked in a sweet and salty broth, the savory and tender meat of the pork cutlet underneath its crispy fried crust, and the fluffy white rice underneath – and feels the same satisfaction when she finishes the program, arms extended towards Connie who is clapping enthusiastically as if she's won a gold medal already.

"Did you see that? It was incredible!" Sasha asks him excitedly, skating towards him recklessly and jumping into his arms.

"I did! I saw the whole thing and you were magnificent," he laughs, twirling her about.

 _Magnificent_. The word people use to describe him on the ice, the word that pops into her head whenever she thinks of him, and now the word he chooses to describe her skate.

It takes her a second to realize that she's still holding onto him and she lets go immediately, thinking it must be strange for her to hug him when she's only just barely met him, but Connie doesn't look as if he's bothered by it.

"It really worked, you know," she says, her cheeks flushed from hearing the compliment he had given her earlier. "I was skating to katsudon."

"Katsudon?" Connie repeats. He doesn't laugh at her, but there's an amused smile on his face. "That's that pork dish, right? The pork cutlet bowl?"

"Yeah," Sasha mumbles, feeling a little silly now. It's not often that she feels self-conscious, but she feels that way now. It would help if he stopped smiling at her so much.

He has a charming smile. That's what judges and competitors always say. No matter how many years pass, his smile remains boyish and charming. In the end, that smile he flashes at the crowd is what ultimately makes people fall in love with him and his programs. Sasha thought it was just something they said, an embellishment that created in order to play him up whenever he was on the screen, but she understands what they mean now that she's able to see his smile up close.

"What is it?" Sasha asks nervously, tugging at a lock of her hair that has fallen out of her ponytail. He's been staring at her for quite some time now.

"Nothing," Connie says, grin growing wider. "It's just that I've never seen a pork cutlet bowl that was so…alluring."

Her face flushes again but for a different reason this time. She's probably a brilliant red now, bright as a firebird.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Haha, sometimes I feel like I write for them a lot but compared to a lot of other ships, I don't really ^^" They are one of my favorite ships though!_

 **Word Count:** _2728_


	7. Best Man

**A/N:** _Someone asked for Springlestein but it turned out more like Springles to me..._

 _Canonverse._

* * *

Jean enters the bar ready to search the crowded place for his friends, but it turns out that he doesn't need to look for long. He's greeted with cheers of "Jean! Jean!" like he's a goddamn war hero that has just returned from the outside instead of a simple guy meeting his friends for drinks. His friends, being quite loud, make it easy for him to find them.

"Oh, Jean! Over here!" Sasha calls, waving a hand. She's so eager to give him a hug that she knocks into the table as she gets off her seat. If Connie hadn't been there, their drinks would have spilled onto the floor.

"Did you have to call me so loudly? Half the people in this pub are looking at me now," Jean grumbles, but he accepts Sasha's hug even though she runs into him with a force that almost makes him fall over. He can tell that she's had a couple of drinks already by the way she sways. He has to be the one to lead her back to the table, helping her back into her chair where she happily returns to her beer.

"How are you doing, Jean?" Connie says, grinning with a lop-sided smile. It seems he's already had a drink or two as well. His cheeks are flushed red they normally do when he's a little drunk. "Good day at work, Mr. Squad Leader?"

"It was as good as any other day," Jean yawns. He's always about ready to pass out on his bed after he's done with work. It's usually just business meetings and paperwork along with meeting and training the new recruits that seem to be pouring in now that the Scouting Legion has begun to successfully reclaim the land beyond the Walls. He had been promoted to the position of squad leader a few months after the return to Shiganshina and it was a lot more work than he had thought it would be, but at least he has Connie and Sasha to keep him company. "So what's the occasion for drinks today?"

"We're celebrating!" Sasha cheers, lifting her glass of beer, the golden liquid sloshing out of the sides.

Connie takes his glass and raises it up against hers and the two of them take a sip, perfectly in sync.

Jean can only roll his eyes, his own drink left untouched. "You're always celebrating something. I wouldn't be surprised if you guys told me you've turned into alcoholics," he snorts.

Connie ignores Jean's comments, used to hearing things like this from him. Instead, he lifts his glass up towards Jean, inviting him to drink. "What's not to celebrate? We're alive, healthy, and together. You're even here this time, so we should drink twice as much!" Connie says.

"Drink, drink!" Sasha chirps, taking another swig. It doesn't seem to matter to her that Jean isn't drinking along with her. At least she's enjoying herself though.

Sighing, Jean decides to take a sip of his beer, thinking that he's had much better drinks than this, but he smiles when Sasha cheers a little too loudly. Drinking to them – for living, for surviving, for lasting this long together – is certainly something he could celebrate.

"We've been through a lot together, haven't we?" Jean asks. He takes another sip, deciding that the bitter taste of the alcohol isn't so bad after he's taken a few sips. "Training, battles, and homecomings."

If someone had asked him at the start of all this how far he'd make it, he would have laughed at them and told them he'd make it until the very end. That was when he was set on joining the Military Police. Now that he's joined the Scouting Legion, served it in for more years than he ever thought he would, he sees that nothing could ever be sure. Even that peaceful life serving the king wouldn't have been certain. The only thing he can be sure about is the two people who sit beside him now. These two, who have never run from a battle, have stood by him with unwavering loyalty, surer of him and his words than he'll ever be. If it weren't for them, Jean probably wouldn't be sitting here today.

"Are you going to get all sappy on us?" Sasha laughs, resting her head on Jean's shoulder.

"And you haven't even had a drink yet," laughs Connie. "If you're this cheesy now, think of all the things you'll say once you've got some alcohol in your bloodstream."

"Oh, don't ruin the moment," Jean grumbles, taking another large swig of his beer.

"Fine, fine," Connie says quickly, not wanting Jean to leave early like he usually does when he finds Connie and Sasha too drunk and giggly to spend time with. He lifts his glass once more and raises an eyebrow. "Another toast, maybe?"

"What for this time? More celebrating just for the sake of it?" Although he constantly expresses his disapproval of Connie's and Sasha's many late-night drinking parties (that usually only consist of themselves), he admires them for being able to find a reason to celebrate life even if things look bleak. Although maybe Jean's been working too much and just doesn't have the same sort of free time they do. He should really reconsider how he spends his nights. Maybe he could schedule weekends to go drinking with them even if they do end up as messy slobs that sneak into his bedroom at three in the morning.

"To Jean!" Sasha says loudly. She has that glazed look in her eye that she gets when she's had more than enough to drink and Jean thinks after this he should replace the contents of her glass with water. "For being a good soldier, a better friend, and…"

"Our best man," Connie finishes, grinning at Jean.

It takes him a while to process what Connie has just said. Best man? Surely, they didn't mean…

Jean takes a hold of Sasha's hand, inspecting her finger only to find that there's nothing on it. Confused, he looks at both Sasha and Connie who both look as if they're trying hard not to laugh. "Either I'm confused or you're lying to me, but I'm sure I know what you mean," he says, looking at them suspiciously before fixing his gaze on Connie. "So where's her ring, Connie? Don't tell me you were too cheap to buy one."

"Hey, do you really think so poorly of me?" Connie laughs.

"I have it here," Sasha says happily. She fishes out a chain that's hidden under her shirt, pulling it out to reveal a ring with two bands of gold and silver intertwined with each other. At the very center is a diamond that is cut in such a way that it glitters brilliantly no matter what angle Jean looks at it.

"You guys are really…," Jean breathes, but he never finishes his sentence. There are no words to describe the way he feels right now. He just shakes his head, hoping that his tears don't fall. "The both of you are so incredible."

"Yeah," Sasha says softly. She seems a little soberer now. The ring dangles from the chain a little longer so that Sasha can admire it, but she quickly tucks it under her shirt once more, a wistful expression on her face. "I haven't worn it just because I don't want my folks to know yet. We still have that mission in Marley and…"

She doesn't finish the sentence. She doesn't need to, and Jean doesn't want her to. Connie must feel the same way because he reaches over to cover Sasha's hand with his, giving it a quick squeeze.

Jean doesn't want them to think about this possibility. He doesn't want them to consider the idea that one of them might not make it back to Paradis. These two are the people most deserving of love and happiness. They're the ones who he wants to see have a happy ending. After all, they're the ones who made him believe in them.

"I'd be honored to be your best man," Jean says, wrapping them both up in a hug. He presses a kiss against Sasha's forehead and smiles at Connie. "But give me the bigger honor of bringing you two home safely from Marley."

"We'll keep you to it," Connie laughs.

"You're squishing me," Sasha giggles.

Jean ignores her, squeezing them even harder, and swearing that he'll bring them home if it's the last thing he does.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I think Jean has become one of my favorites to write. He's very interesting..._

 **Word Count:** _1423_


End file.
